


Bound For Different Ports

by sharkie335



Category: CSI: Las Vegas, NCIS
Genre: M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-04
Updated: 2010-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:03:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the hell was he going to move this on to the next level?  With a woman, he would just kiss her.  The few men he'd picked up over the years had been quick handjobs or blowjobs in the alley behind a bar.  Anything more had been a long time ago. This was some sort of mix of the two and it had him thrown slightly off-kilter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound For Different Ports

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a quote of P.D. James. "Not so much two ships passing in the night as two ships sailing together for a time but always bound for different ports." This story only exists because of several people: sweptawaybayou, who I pitched the idea to as a joke and had her demand that I write it; ladycat777, blueraccoon, and lillian13 who cheered me on; and justhuman, sihayab, and shay_renoylds, who betaed this within an inch of its life!

Gibbs sighed as he opened the door to the bar. All he really wanted was to go home and work on his boat, but that wasn't possible tonight. His next-door neighbor's kid had been planning a blowout of a party and Gibbs didn't want to be anywhere near it. The local law enforcement wouldn't attempt shutting it down until after the two am noise complaints. Gibbs could probably flash a badge and make people scatter, but he wasn't interested in getting yet another cold shoulder from a neighbor he liked.

At least she'd given him the courtesy of a day's notice, so that he didn't drive all the way home just to turn around and leave again.

So instead, he was had wandered into a bar he'd never been to. No ferns or loud, thumping music, at least, and it wasn't too crowded yet. Making his way to the bar, he ordered a beer and a shot of bourbon. The bartender gave him a look before pouring them, and Gibbs gave him a half smile as he took the shot. The bartender was kind of hot, but Gibbs didn't think that he'd wandered into one of those kinds of bars. It was a little unfortunate, because now that he thought about it, he could go for getting laid. He downed the shot there at the bar, then picked up the beer and made his way to one of the small tables where he could see the game on the television.

He nursed his beer as he watched the Terps get hammered. It had been a while since he'd spent any real time watching them, and they were apparently having a crap season from what he could see. As soon as he hit the bottom of the glass, the waiter was right there. "Another?"

"Sure," he said, glancing at his watch. It was just after twenty-one hundred; he could handle another one.

While he waited for the second beer, he looked around the bar, which had started to fill up. Surprised, he realized that his was the only table with any available chairs at it, just as a stranger walked over, carrying his drink.

"Do you mind if I join you?" The guy was slightly shorter, with a beard and bowlegged stance. A glance at the bar showed why he wasn't sitting there – it was packed four deep with guys watching the game and yelling at the T.V.

The guy wasn't dressed up for going out, based on what Gibbs had seen of DiNozzo; just a nice button-down shirt and Dockers. His expression was calm and friendly. Hesitating for a second, because wanting to be alone was second nature, he changed his mind before he could say no. "Sure," Gibbs said.

Odd. The guy didn't sit so he could see the game, but rather faced Gibbs.   
"Thanks. Getting crowded in here."

"Yeah. And a little noisy," Gibbs said, raising his voice and signing the word for loud without thinking about it. He wasn't sure why he'd done it, either.

The guy smiled and proceeded to sign, "Do you actually know sign or was that just a lucky guess?" His hands showed signs of old chemical burns, scars from heavy use. They reminded him of Abby. Maybe this guy was some sort of scientist - a chemist, doing work with the defense department?

Gently amused, Gibbs signed back, "No, I know ASL. Easier to use when it's loud like this. " He hesitated for a brief second, then decided that he was going to at least _try_ for casual. "My name's Jethro."

"Gil."

"You from around here, Gil?"

"No, I'm from Las Vegas. Here on business."

One of the perks of using sign language was the way it drew attention to the body. Gil was being subtle, just an angle here, a suggestive tilt there, but there was no real mistaking it. He was interested in Gibbs.

It would be smarter to just wait until he knew the local law enforcement had been called and shut down the party. He even had a pretty good idea of when that would happen. He certainly shouldn't be picking up strange men in bars - or any men, for that matter. He couldn't help thinking of DiNozzo for a second.

"You okay?" Gil asked when Gibbs refocused on him. "You went away there."

"Yeah, I'm fine." He returned his attention to Gil. The downside to ASL was that slips in attention were even more obvious. It had been a long time since he'd held an extended conversation in sign language. He really needed to concentrate. Usually he used with Abby, or to fuck with his team.

"If you're tired, I can leave you alone," Gil signed.

Gibbs actually thought about it for a second. Thought about going home to his boat. Looking into the quiet eyes of someone who'd seen more of the world than Gibbs had first realized, he thought that it was worth the risk, this once.

Maybe it was that he spent so much time with people younger than him, that looked up to him and called him boss. Maybe it was the fact that even while they were talking, Gil's eyes had never been still, as if he was categorizing the room. He didn't seem to be a cop, and he was no military man. In the end it didn't really matter _why_.

"No. I mean, yes, I'm tired, but I don't particularly want to be left alone," he signed. "Maybe we could find somewhere quieter?"

Gil smiled. "That sounds like a plan. If you want, you could come to my hotel? I'm staying right around the corner at the Courtyard."

Gibbs thought for a second. He didn't really want to bring a stranger home. Besides, if he begged a few minutes to run by HQ and drop off his gun, he wouldn't have to worry about someone breaking into his car and stealing it.

"Give me twenty minutes. I have to run a quick errand."

"I'm in room 418," Gil said. "I'll see you there." Gibbs was a little impressed despite himself, because Gil sat down his half-empty glass and immediately headed towards the entrance to the bar. No hesitation showed in his step, and he didn't look back.

Impressive.

With a mental shake, Gibbs followed. He swung by the Navy Yard and dropped off his gun. He knew that he really shouldn't – protocol was wearing the gun from door to door, but he just didn't feel like explaining its presence to Gil. Within the twenty minutes, he was in the hotel elevator on his way up.

Knocking softly, he wasn't surprised when the door immediately opened. Gil stood back to let him in, and the door swung shut behind him. For just a moment, they stared at each other, and then Gil said, "Get your errand taken care of?" He had a nice voice, deep and clear, and Gibbs liked it immediately.

"Yeah, no problem."

"Take off your coat." Gil pointed at one of the chairs.

Gibbs nodded, dropping his coat on the corner of the bed as he passed. Gil opened the minibar.

"Can I interest you in something?"

"Sure. Bourbon?"

Gil handed a small bottle over to Gibbs and opened one for himself. They drank in companionable silence for a minute.

"So, what kind of work do you do?" Gibbs asked. How the hell was he going to move this on to the next level? With a woman, he would just kiss her. The few men he'd picked up over the years had been quick handjobs or blowjobs in the alley behind a bar. Anything more had been a long time ago. This was some sort of mix of the two and it had him thrown slightly off-kilter.

"I'm here in D.C. on a consulting job." Gil sat on the edge of the bed, his knee close enough to Gibbs' for him to feel his body heat. "Besides, I can think of more interesting things to do than talk."

"Oh, you can, can you?" Gibbs grinned.

"I can." Gil leaned forward. Gibbs met him halfway, their lips brushing. Then Gil opened his mouth, just a little, and Gibbs deepened the kiss. One of his hands tangled in Gil's hair, the other dropped to his waist turning him to a better angle. Then he just relaxed and got lost in the touch and taste of another man.

When the kiss ended, Gibbs was surprised to find Gil on the floor, kneeling between his legs. He looked up to meet Gibbs' eyes and smiled, and Gibbs smiled back.

"Anything in particular you want?" Gil asked.

"I was thinking, you, naked and on the bed," Gibbs answered. This time Gibbs wasn't surprised at all when Gil stood and started to strip matter-of-factly. What to do now? He hadn't been planning on picking up a guy, and unless Gil had come prepared, they didn't have any condoms.

Hell. Gibbs grinned. He was a Marine. He'd think of other things to do.

By the time Gibbs stood up, Gil was already down to his briefs, and unselfconsciously pushed them to the floor. He stood there for a moment, letting Gibbs look his fill.

Gibbs took a deep breath. Gil's cock was hard, thick, and long. God. Gibbs couldn't wait to get his mouth on it.

As Gil crawled to the center of the bed and flipped over onto his back, Gibbs toed off his shoes and stepped out of his pants and boxers. Pulling off his shirt, he tossed it aside and climbed up on the bed. Gil spread his legs wide enough for Gibbs to crawl between them. He lowered his mouth to Gil's, kissing him thoroughly.

His cock brushed against Gil's and he gave a happy shudder, a shiver that was echoed by Gil. Thrusting slowly, Gibbs reveled in the feel of two cocks rubbing together. Gil moaned softly, lifting his hips into the stroke, and that just encouraged Gibbs to thrust even harder.

They kissed and rocked together; neither of them in any particular hurry, just luxuriating in the slow rise of pleasure.

Gibbs could get off like this, but he didn't _want_ too. Breaking the kiss, he tipped his head so that he could nip at Gil's neck, careful not to leave a mark. Gil groaned and arched his neck, encouraging Gibbs to taste him thoroughly before he continued to move down.

Kissing along Gil's ribs made him clutch at Gibbs' hair. Lifting his head, he gently disengaged Gil's hands and pressed them to the bed. At that, Gil's eyes opened, and he _smiled_, down and dirty. "Is that a hint to keep them there?" he asked.

_Damn_. No time to do it right, not with only one night. Regretfully, he said, "Not tonight."

But Gil didn't lose the smile. Lifting his hand, he traced Gibbs' cheek and pulled him in for a kiss, before relaxing back into the bed. Taking that as permission, Gibbs continued to kiss his way down Gil's body till he reached his cock. It smelled as good as it looked, and Gibbs darted down to give the head a chaste kiss.

When he looked up, he saw lust and heat in Gil's eyes, and that encouraged him to open his mouth and suck the head in.

Gil's head slammed back into the pillow and he fucking _whimpered_. Gibbs turned his attention to Gil's cock. He slowly licked around the ridge, and then focused his attention on the bundle of nerves below the head, tonguing that spot until Gil was gasping. Only then did he slowly slide down, pressing his tongue along the large vein. He tightened his mouth, wanting to make Gil moan some more. Gil certainly wasn't holding any of them back, and Gibbs found himself bobbing his head as he ground his cock into the hotel bedspread in response.

Without letting up on the suction, he slid one hand behind Gil's balls, pressing lightly on his perineum. Keeping his thumb there, he spread his fingers so that his index finger pressed on Gil's hole.

He didn't make any effort to penetrate. He just rubbed around the edge in time to the lift and fall of his head. Gil was leaking precome, groaning and thrashing on the bed, and if Gibbs could have smiled, he would have.

When Gil gasped out, "Jethro, gonna, gonna come," Gibbs tightened his mouth, not wanting to miss a drop, and swallowed hard around the tip of Gil's cock. With an inarticulate cry, Gil's whole body tightened, and he spilled into Gibbs' mouth, bitter and _perfect_.

Desperate, Gibbs knelt up, hand on his cock, when Gil said, "No, come here," reaching for him.

Gibbs slid close, his cock within Gil's reach. "Isn't going to take much," he said as Gil's hand tightened around the shaft.

Gil's lips brushed against his ear. "You sure you just want a handjob? I was going to offer you my mouth."

God. Gibbs stared at Gil's wet, hot mouth, and he came _hard_.

Panting, he kissed Gil hard and deep. "That was good."

"Wrong," Gil said

Gibbs pull back, puzzled.

Gil winked. "That was _very_ good."

Gibbs smiled and leaned in for another kiss. There was still heat to the kiss, but it was less intense as Gibbs dragged his lips across Gil's. Gibbs thought that if he'd been twenty years younger he'd be going for a second round right about now, but he wasn't. And he wouldn't have wanted to lose this leisurely making out, anyway.

Gibbs blinked. Hard to stay awake. "I should go."

"About that," Gil said. "Do you have to work tomorrow?"

"Not unless I'm called in," Gibbs said. What did Gil have in mind?

"My seminar isn't till Monday. Maybe we could spend the day together? I don't feel like being a tourist, and otherwise, I'll hang around all day and watch bad cable. I'd much rather stay here and suck your dick."

A frisson of pleasure shot through Gibbs at that. He could stay. It wasn't like the boat was going anywhere anyway.

***

Gil's eyes open at the sound of someone moving around the room. For a second he couldn't remember where he was or why there was someone else there, but as he opened his eyes, it came flooding back - going to the bar, picking up Jethro, and a truly great blowjob.

Turning over, he smiled at Jethro. "Hey," he said.

"Hey." Jethro was a bit damp around the edges, obviously having taken a shower. He resumed pulling on his pants, making Gil sit up unhappily. He hadn't _thought_ he'd done anything to cause a change in plans.

"I thought you were going to spend the day here today?" he asked, trying to mask his confusion, but suspecting that he wasn't doing a very good job of it.

Jethro came over to the bed, planting a knee in the mattress and leaning over to give Gil a firm kiss on the lips. "I fully intend to spend the day here. But if we're going to do that, we need supplies, and those aren't going to come to us. Figured I'd run down to the convenience store, grab some snack food and some coffee, and bring it back. Anything I can get for you?"

Relieved but trying not to show it, Gil smiled. "That's perfect. Coffee for me, too, black. And maybe you should bring back some condoms?" He didn't want to sound too eager, but it had been a _long_ time, after all. He couldn't remember the last time he'd picked up a one-night stand, since he never knew when he was going to get called for a case. Might as well make the most of it.

Jethro's smile lit up his face. "Condoms it is." He grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door. "Be back in ten or so."

As soon as Jethro had closed the door behind him, Gil got out of the bed and headed for the shower. He wanted to linger under the hot water, but he hadn't given a key to Jethro, so he needed to be done before he got back or he'd be locked out.

When he finished cleaning up, he debated getting dressed, but he didn't see much point to it. It wasn't like it was a surprise that he wanted to have sex with Jethro - he'd suggested the condoms, after all. But at the same time, he didn't want to open the door completely naked. He compromised by pulling on a pair of briefs, and just in time, too, because there was a knock at the door. Paranoia flared for a moment.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, and your coffee is getting cold," said Jethro. Grinning, Gil opened the door Jethro had two cups of coffee, and a small bag was tucked under one arm. Gil relieved him of one cup as the door slid shut, and leaned in for a thank you kiss.

Gil closed his eyes and sniffed, and then drank deeply. He _hated_ being awake during the daytime - too many years on the nightshift. By the time he was halfway through the cup and he looked up, Jethro staring at him, amusement clear in his eyes.

"What?"

"It's rare I see someone as... impassioned about drinking coffee as I am."

"Ah, no, this isn't passion. This is _desperation_. I usually work nightshift." He thought about going into it, but in his experience, his job tended to either turn people off due to the grossness factor, or make them obsessive because of the supposed "glamour" of the job. It wasn't glamorous or particularly gross. It was just what he was good at.

Thankfully, Jethro didn't. He just dumped the bag on the bed and dropped into the chair he'd occupied the night before. Before he sat, he pulled out a box of donuts, and sipped at his coffee, closing his eyes in apparent bliss. Without setting down the cup, he kicked off his shoes and leaned back in the chair.

They drank their coffee and ate their donuts quietly for a few minutes, but coffee only lasted so long. Coming to the end of the cup, he sat it on the dresser before he walked across the room to Jethro. He tried to find the confidence that had let him strip for Jethro the night before, but in the light of day, it was hard.

Ducking his head so that he didn't have to look Jethro in the eye, he tried to ignore the fact that Jethro was still fully dressed when he was just in his underwear.

When he finally persuaded himself to look up, Jethro was watching him with heat in his eyes, and when Gil held out a hand, he took it. Gil pulled him to his feet and into a kiss. It was _definitely_ hot, and Gil let Jethro take control of the kiss. It was rare for Gil to be with someone bigger than him, and he already knew that Jethro liked being in charge.

Running his hands up Jethro's back, he said, "Think you might lose the clothes?"

Pulling back, Jethro smiled. "You think?" He didn't give Gil a chance to answer. Instead he let go and started to pull off his shirt. It left his hair a bit mussed, and Gil reached out to smooth it down, letting his fingers trail down over Jethro's neck and shoulder. "Why don't you get on the bed?" Jethro said as he unbuckled his pants.

Gil dropped his underwear and crawled up on the bed, lying on his belly. Jethro wasn't stupid. He'd get the message.

Jethro made a hoarse noise, and the bed dipped and swayed as he climbed up. A nudge to Gil's inner thigh, and he spread his legs wide, letting Jethro slide in between them. Jethro's chest brushed against Gil's back, and his cock nudged against Gil's ass. Then Jethro's mouth closed on the back of Gil's neck, and Gil couldn't help but moan.

Jethro's licked and sucked at Gil's neck and shoulder. When he hit a particularly sensitive spot on Gil's shoulder, Gil bucked up into the touch, trying to deepen it.

"God, Jethro, more," he said.

He could feel Jethro smile against his skin.

"Hold on."

But Gil didn't _want_ to be patient. Patience was for work, for crime scenes. Right now he wanted to be _touched_. He spared a thought for the fact that his team wouldn't recognize him like this. They would never get the chance if he had his way.

Jethro shifted, slowly kissing his way down Gil's back.

"Gonna take my time," Jethro murmured into Gil's skin. "Gonna taste you _all_ over, and then I'm going to fuck you nice and slow."

And yes, that sounded good; even though Gil was already so hard he could feel his pulse in his dick. He forced his muscles to relax; letting his hands flatten and smooth the sheets rather than ball up into tight fists. Jethro and he weren't kids anymore, so taking their time was more logical.

Even if he was hornier than he could remember being in years.

Jethro's mouth was skilled as he nipped and sucked leaving small bruises. He had to hope that nothing happened requiring him to be shirtless for a few days. Should he tell Jethro not to make any marks? No. He wanted them. Not smart, but he for once he didn't care.

When Jethro's hands slid down to the cheeks of his ass, spreading him wide, Gil held his breath. Jethro wasn't going to...

At the first touch of Jethro's tongue to his hole, he moaned. Oh, god, it had been _too_ long since _anything_ besides his own fingers had touched him there. Gil fisted his hands in the sheets and tried to remember to breathe as Jethro teased him, licking around the rim of his hole, and then darting away to kiss his cheeks.

As Gil clenched the sheets in tight fists, Jethro came back, using the flat of his tongue until Gil was begging. Only then did he slide his tongue into Gil's hole. It was wet and slippery and felt so fucking good that Gil was practically hyperventilating in pleasure.

Only then did Jethro pull his mouth away, planting small kisses on the cheeks of Gil's ass. "Good?" he asked. He sounded pleased with himself.

"Looking for compliments?" Gil shot back as soon as he caught his breath.

"Well, that or complaints."

"No, no complaints." Gil buried his face in the cool sheets. Jethro's hand on his hip urged him up, and he slowly and shakily got his knees under himself, keeping his legs spread. He hoped for more of that cool, wet touch, and wasn't disappointed. He moaned again, squirming to get Jethro's tongue deeper.

He could come from just this.

Jethro pulled back again. Why? A paper bag rattled, and then Jethro swore. Gil turned his head, peering back over his shoulder, just to see Jethro fighting with the plastic wrap around the top of the bottle of lube.

He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. At least everything didn't go perfectly for Jethro either.

Finally there was a click as Jethro managed to get the bottle open, and Gil turned his face back into the bedding.

A slick finger circled his opening and he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as the finger slid inside.

"Oh, oh, yes," he gasped

He rocked his hips. Could he get Jethro to speed up?

No, Jethro tightened the hand on his hip.

"Slow, remember?"

"I remember," Gil groaned. He was rewarded by Jethro brushing his finger over his prostate, setting off fireworks behind his eyes. "Oh! Do that again!"

"What, this?" Jethro pressed rhythmically on that spot for a moment, then pulled his finger out.

"Yes, that! Don't stop."

"Don't worry - I'm not," Jethro said, planting a soft kiss on Gil's opening before he came back with two fingers, pressing them inside and making him sigh in pleasure.

Jethro was a fucking tease, because he was sliding his fingers in just far enough to stretch Gil's opening, but not far enough to actually get to Gil's prostate. Jethro's thumb was up behind Gil's balls, making Gil groan and try to flex his hips again.

When Jethro finally slid his fingers in deep, brushing over Gil's prostate again, Gil gasped and shook. Jethro held there, pressing on Gil's prostate from both sides, pushing Gil even closer to coming.

The stretch was good, was better than good. Gil couldn't get a great angle on himself, so he rarely indulged in a long finger-fucking session. Jethro seemed determined to give him one. He grabbed one of the pillows and hugged it to his chest, keeping his head down. "Hell, Jethro, that's good."

"It is, isn't it?" Gil didn't care that Jethro sounded smug. Jethro was damned good at this. He moaned and shifted, spreading legs wider.

"I'm ready," Why couldn't Jethro just go ahead and fuck him already? He wanted Jethro to take him, fill him up.

"But I'm not," said Jethro as his fingers leisurely moved in and out. He rubbed his stubble cheek against Gil's ass. "What happened to taking our time?" Before Gil could answer, Jethro slid a third finger into him. Gil whimpered.

Jethro finger-fucked Gil right up to the point where Gil thought he was going to go insane; till he couldn't form words, only broken sounds. Then, slowly, Jethro pulled his fingers out.

"Turn over."

It took effort for Gil to coordinate his body enough to flip onto his back, since his muscles didn't want to cooperate. He managed it in time to see Jethro tearing open the condom wrapper. He managed to wrap his hand around Jethro's cock, giving it one long stroke before Jethro started to roll the condom on.

He slicked his cock as Gil lay back, spreading his legs. Jethro moved in between them, leaning on one hand as he used the other to guide his cock to Gil's opening. Gil took a deep breath and let it out slowly as Jethro breached him.

He was so slick, so well stretched that there was no pain, just the long, slow glide of Jethro sliding home. He felt the brush of Jethro's balls against his ass, and Jethro paused, obviously waiting for Gil to tell him that it was okay to move. Gil opened eyes that he hadn't realized that he'd closed and looked up at Jethro, saying, "God, yes."

Jethro chuckled, but he sounded stressed. His hips flexed, and Gil moaned. The head of his cock was perfectly placed, right over Gil's prostate. "Fuck," Jethro said.

"I thought that was what we were doing," Gil said, trying to sound like he still had _some_ control.

"Oh, we are," said Jethro, and then he started to move; slow, deep, and steady.

Gil wrapped his legs around Jethro's waist, pulling him closer, and did his best to meet every stroke. He groaned as each stroke passed over his prostate, making sparks shoot off behind his eyes. The feeling of fullness was perfect, just what he'd been craving.

It was obvious Jethro really knew what he was doing.

Jethro wrapped one hand around Gil's cock, stroking it in time to his thrusts. It wasn't going to take long at this rate for Gil to come. He was clinging to the remains of his control with teeth and toenails, because he didn't want to come embarrassingly fast.

Leaning down to kiss Gil, Jethro whispered, "Let it go, Gil. I want you to come for me." At the same time, he dragged his thumb over the head of Gil's cock, spreading the moisture there.

He grunted. He was going to come, any second now. He just needed a little more... Jethro gave it to him - a deep kiss and a deep thrust at the same time.

With a loud groan, he came over Jethro's fist, splattering his belly with come. Jethro fucked him through his orgasm, slowing his hand as Gil twitched from aftershocks. He rapidly grew too sensitive to be touched, and he reached down and pushed Jethro's hand away from his cock.

Jethro said, "Can I - "

Gil reached up and wrapped his arms around Jethro's neck as he continued to thrust gently. "I'm not going to break," he said, encouraging Jethro to take what he needed.

Jethro's movements sped up. Suddenly, Jethro broke his steady rhythm, slamming home two, three, four times and then freezing as he came.

Panting, Jethro stayed, propped on top of Gil for a long moment before he reached down to hold the condom in place as he pulled out. Gil bit his tongue rather than whimper at the feeling. Jethro padded off to the bathroom; to dispose of the condom, Gil assumed. The toilet flushed, and then the sink ran for a moment.

When Jethro reappeared, he was carrying a washcloth, which he used to gently wiped over Gil's stomach and cock, wiping away the traces left by his orgasm. Jethro then wiped lower, wiping away the lube on Gil's skin. Gil thought about objecting, but fatigue was pulling at him, making his limbs heavy and his tongue wooden, so he just nodded his thanks. Jethro dropped the washcloth on the carpet, and then climbed back into the bed.

"I think we've earned a nap," said Gil yawned.

"I think you're right." Jethro turned to face Gil.

"And when we wake up, I'm blowing you," Gil muttered, eyes already drifting shut. If Jethro responded, he wasn't awake to hear it.

Light gleamed across the floor; it was late when Gil woke. . He blinked, clearing his vision, and looked across at Jethro, who was still sleeping. There was something familiar about Jethro, something that Gil couldn't place.

It wasn't that he was ex-military. Gil had known that since the night before. The rigid bearing, the tight haircut had given it away. And he still worked with guns – the calluses on his fingers told Gil that. It was a pretty good guess that either Jethro was still in the service, or he was something like law enforcement.

Who was he? What did he do? Gil sighed. Jethro hadn't poked at any sore subjects for Gil, so the least Gil could do was give him the same respect.

He shifted, and Jethro opened his eyes. Gil could see him go through a mental checklist as he figured out where he was and who he was with before he gave Gil a wide smile. "Hey," he said, voice rough. "What time is it?"

"I don't know," said Gil sat up and peered over Jethro's shoulder at the clock. "Four."

"That explains the headache," said Jethro a little ruefully. "I haven't had anywhere near enough coffee today."

"We haven't eaten either, and we can't have that. Maybe we have dinner?"

"I'd need to run home and change my clothes first," said Jethro. "And I live about forty-five minutes from here."

Ah, a brush off. He pulled back, unable to prevent the stiffness that engendered.

"I understand."

Jethro moved forward. "No, I really don't think you do. You've got work tomorrow. So do I. When do you fly home?"

"Not till Tuesday evening."

"Why don't I meet you here for dinner tomorrow night? My treat."

"I think we could do that."

Jethro smiled and kissed Gil, then climbed out of bed and went to the dresser. Grabbing the notepad and pen, he scribbled quickly.

"There, that's my cell number. Why don't we say... six? And call me if that's not good for you."

Gil joined him at the dresser, tearing off the top sheet and writing his own cell number on the next. "Sounds good to me."

He was pulled into a forceful kiss; so good it nearly drove him to his knees. When Jethro released him, he smiled.

"Okay, then, you should go home before I decide to take matters into my own hands."

"What do you mean-" Gil cut the words off with another kiss, one hand going to Jethro's hair and the other to his balls, cupping them gently. This time it was Jethro's turn to nearly collapse.

Breaking the kiss, he whispered in Jethro's ear, "I still owe you that blowjob," and then he released Jethro.

"I'm going to hold you to that." He moved away and grabbed his pants from the foot of the bed.

Gil watched as Jethro dressed, sitting to put his shoes on. It was... odd, to say the least. As Jethro put his clothes on, he seemed to become a different personas if he was putting on armor.

Once Jethro was fully dressed, he turned to face Gil. "So, tomorrow night?"

"Right. Looking forward to it."

Jethro leaned in and brushed a kiss over Gil's lips before heading to the door and letting himself out.

Gil scrubbed a hand over his face. Shower, then food, and then he'd review the slides for his presentation the next day. He had to admit that for once it wasn't insects that had him excited.

***

 

Gibbs had only been at his desk a few minutes when the babble of excited voices interrupted his train of thought. Standing, he noticed a small clot of the forensic staff and agents from other teams, all chatting and moving as a group towards the stairs. Then he caught sight of a familiar face.

Was he imagining things? Gil's voice answered that question.

"Yes, you can accurately time the death to within an hour using blowfly larvae. Assuming that they have access to the body, blowflies arrive within minutes..."

Why was Gil here? Gibbs joined the group, slotting himself in neatly between Ducky and one of an evidence tech.

"Morning, Ducky," Gibbs' gaze settled on Gil.

Gil whipped around like someone had pinched him, staring at Gibbs.

Ducky waved a hand. "Jethro, my dear boy, meet Doctor Grissom. He's here to talk about the use of insects in crime scenes."

Gil still looked a little shocked, but even as he watched he could see Gil covering it up. He held out one hand for Gibbs to shake. Gibbs smirked as he dutifully shook it, waiting to see how Gil wanted to play this.

A blink. Two. Then Gil spoke, his voice steady. "We've actually met, Doctor Mallard, but it is nice to see you again, Jethro."

Eyebrows raising to their respective hairlines, Abby and Ducky exchanged a glance. Before they could speak, Jethro's phone rang.

"Excuse me."

Dispatch passed on a call from the M.P.s at Quantico, reporting a suspicious death of a marine.

"Okay, Ducky," he said, flipping his phone closed. "We need to leave Doctor Grissom in Abby's capable hands. We have a case."

Ducky's face fell, but he immediately excused himself and headed towards the elevator. Gibbs caught Gil's eye,

"I'll see you later."

Gil smiled and nodded, and Gibbs headed back to his desk to round up his team.

A few moments later, everyone moved out. DiNozzo glancing at him with bright curious eyes.

No sooner had the truck pulled out of the Navy Yard than DiNozzo piped up. "So, you know the visiting geek, boss?"  

"Yes, DiNozzo, I do,"

Silence.

"So, _how_ do you know him?" 

Gibbs just smiled.

"I think the more important question is _how well_ does he know him?" said David.

He continued to smile, even as DiNozzo and David took more and more outrageous guesses, without ever coming close to the truth.

Finally McGee spoke up. "Give it up, Tony. Even if you guess it, Gibbs is never going to admit it. You should ask Doctor Grissom if you really want to know."

Shit. Gil didn't need to be put on the spot.

"Maybe you should worry more about the case than how I know someone."

"Yeah, right," DiNozzo said, but he let it drop, when David elbowed him in the ribs.

Gibbs relaxed back into the seat and let his team's conversation wash over him for the rest of the trip.

They pulled up behind Ducky's truck on the street. Ducky and Palmer were already standing at the doorway, waiting for them. "Impatient, Ducky?" Gibbs called as his team offloaded from the truck, grabbing their equipment and supplies.

"You could say that, Jethro. I'm supposed to meet with Doctor Grissom at one o'clock."

"Well, we'll do our best to get you back," said Gibbs. "But in the meantime, let's find out what happened to… " He turned to the M.P., waiting for a name.

"Staff Sergeant Paul Williams," the M.P. said.

"Staff Sergeant Williams." He opened the door and led the way to the body.

Williams was lying in his bed, tangled in the blankets.

Ducky took one look and said, "Oh, dear Lord."

Gibbs understood his reaction. The Staff Sergeant was covered in odd-looking marks. Not gory - just _odd_. Familiarity tickled the back of Gibbs' mind.

"I don't believe I've seen anything quite like this," said Ducky, pulled a thermometer from his bag and inserting it into the dead man's liver.

"I have," said Gibbs, "but I can't remember _where_." It was frustrating, like having a word on the tip of his tongue. The marks weren't burns, weren't bruises. He _knew_ what they were. He just couldn't _place_ them.

DiNozzo, who'd been outside interviewing the M.P., came in.

"Something you can't remember, boss? Stop the presses!"

When Gibbs turned to glare at him, though, he held up his PDA and started to read off notes. "Williams was reported UA this morning. Since he'd never missed a day of work, his CO called the MPs and asked them to swing by, check that he was okay. They let themselves in with a base housing key when he didn't answer the door. Found him like this and immediately called us."

"What about his wife? Or girlfriend?" Gibbs could see the dresses hanging in the closet.

"McGee's gone to interview the C.O. I'll let him know that he should find out."

"Okay." Gibbs returned his attention to Ducky. "You got a time of death for me yet?"

"Yes. He died about four hours ago."

"How about a cause?"

Ducky grimaced. "I'll know more when I get him back to autopsy. Right now, he looks completely healthy other than these marks."

"Okay – you head back. We'll stay and see what we can find here." He turned his attention to his team, instructing DiNozzo to start drawing and David to start taking pictures.

As Jimmy and Ducky loaded up the body and started up the road to the Navy Yard, his team turned their attention to searching the house.

***

Gil crossed his arms and smiled. Abby amused him. She reminded him of Greg. Not now-Greg, but the Greg of a few years ago - the one who'd do things like try on a dancer's headdress. She babbled and gestured as she showed him the equipment in her lab. Gil chuckled. Yes, he was jealous.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, beaming at him.

"I think you're very lucky to have all this equipment. My team would kill to have some of it."

Abby hopped up to sit on the counter. "So, how do you know Gibbs?"

"He's a... friend." Gil wasn't sure what he should say. There was no doubt in his mind that Gibbs was ex-military, and he still worked for the navy. Casual acceptance of homosexuality was unlikely.

"A friend, huh?" Abby grinned at him. "I like that. A friend." She was very obvious that she didn't believe him in the slightest.

Damn. "It's... you should ask Jethro," Discretion was the better part of valor. He wasn't a coward.

"But - " the phone rang. She jumped down and ran across to the desk. "Abby here. Oh, hi, Ducky. Jimmy can't bring them up? Okay, I'll be right down."

She returned her attention to Gil. "Excuse me, Gil. I need to go down to the morgue and pick up some samples."

Was the morgue was as well stocked as the lab? "Do you mind if I come with you? I used to be an Medical Examiner."

"Oh, sure!" Abby led him to the elevator. "ME, huh? And now you're a CSI and study bugs? Is there anything you can't do?"

"Lots of things, Abby. Lots of things."

The morgue was well lit as they entered, but Gil's attention was immediately drawn to the body on the table.

"That can't be right."

"What can't be right?" said Doctor Mallard, pointing at the marks. He reminded Gil strongly of someone from T.V., but he couldn't place him. As Doctor Mallard turned to look at the body again, it came to him - Illya Kuryakin, if he'd aged about thirty years. And aged well, for that matter. "As you can see, we have a bit of a puzzler here, and any help would be most useful."

"Well, those can't be what they look like, Doctor Mallard, because they look like scorpion stings." He looked over the body without touching it, counting sting marks. "There's a couple of things wrong with that - scorpions don't usually sting more than once or twice, they usually sting on a limb because you've grabbed them by mistake, they don't usually kill healthy adults, and not least, _you don't find them in this area_."

"Are you _sure_ that they're scorpion stings? And please call me Ducky."

"Fairly, Ducky. I've seen a lot of them. And you should call me Gil."

"Oh, dear." Ducky walked to the phone. Putting it on speaker, he dialed a number.

"Yeah, Ducky - what do you have?"

"You and your team need to be very, very careful. There may be scorpions present."

"_Scorpions_, Ducky? That's a bit unlikely - aren't they usually found in deserts?"

"Well, at least warmer climates than D.C.," said Gil.

A pause. "Gil, is that you?"

"Yes, Jethro. And while I'm not a hundred percent sure that it's scorpions, I'm certain enough that I agree with Ducky - you and your team need to be very careful, at least until we identify the species and figure out what they're doing here."

There was a short scream, and the call was disconnected.

"I'd say they found something," said Ducky, looking concerned.

"Yes," said Gil, pushing down panic. "I just wonder _how_."

"In the meantime," Ducky said, "The Staff Sergeant awaits our attention."

Ducky returned to the autopsy, which Gil observed. He did suggest that they send a sample to Abby for identification of the poison - since at this point it seemed the most likely cause of death.

They found a surprise when they opened his throat. The Staff Sergeant's airway was swollen shut in one of the worst cases of anaphylactic shock that Gil had seen. "This is what killed him," Ducky said, pointing out the swelling to Jimmy.

"Now it begins to make a bit more sense," said Gil. "He didn't die of the scorpion toxin, though he must have been in agony."

The phone rang, and Jimmy went to answer it, leaving Gil and Ducky to continue the autopsy. "So you know Jethro, do you?" Ducky asked as he closed up the Y-incision.

Aw, hell. "Yes?"

"Forgive me, Gil. It's just that Jethro doesn't have many friends outside the office as far as his coworkers know. So having the two of you know each other is a bit of a surprise."

"He seemed friendly enough to me. But I have to admit that I was a bit surprised to see him here - we don't know each other _that_ well."

"Really, now." Ducky's blue eyes sparked with curiosity as Jimmy returned.

"That was Special Agent Gibbs, Doctor Mallard. A scorpion stung Officer David. Poison control told them she didn't need to go to the hospital unless she develops symptoms or the pain gets worse."

"Damn," Gil shook his head.

"The good news is that Agent DiNozzo managed to catch it! He's is bringing her back to the office and then he's going to bring you the scorpion so you can identify it."

"Well, that is good news," said Ducky.

Ducky suggested that Gil return to Abby's lab to await the return of Agent DiNozzo, as the autopsy was about finished. Official cause of death was anaphylactic shock, secondary to scorpion envenomation.

Gil agreed, taking the elevator back to the lab. The door opened to blasting music. Gil flinched. He definitely needed to tell Greg about his doppelganger in D.C.

As soon as Abby noticed Gil standing there, she turned the stereo down. "Sorry!"

"It's no problem, Abby. What have you found?"

"There's definitely a neuro-toxin there. The problem is that there are tens of thousands of them, so unless I can get some way to narrow them down, finding a match is going to take a while."

"Narrow it to scorpion venom," Agent DiNozzo said. He held up a jar with a particularly good specimen in it. Gil carefully took it.

"Oh, he's terrific specimen," said Gil. He turned the jar to get a good look at the scorpion's pedipalps, and then around again to get a good look at his stinger

"You think that _thing_ is terrific," said DiNozzo flatly.

"Yes." Gil looked up. "It's not _his_ fault that he's got too much venom. He doesn't even belong here."

"Well, where does he belong, Gil?" Abby asked.

"Arizona - Sonoran Desert to be specific. He's an Arizona Bark Scorpion." Holding up the jar again, he said, "So how did you get here?"

Turning to look at DiNozzo, he said, "Did you see any signs of this little fellow being kept as a pet? A terrarium? Anything like that?"

"No, nothing."

"I'd say you're looking at a murder weapon, then. Though I suspect from the look of the Staff Sergeant's body that there's more than one of these guys around that house. They just aren't aggressive enough for one to sting - and envenom - that many times."

"Oh, great." DiNozzo whipped out his phone and dialed. "Boss? Doctor Grissom says that there's probably more than one of those things around, so be careful. Uh, huh. Yeah. He's right here." When DiNozzo held out his phone, Gil took it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Gil. Sorry today's a bit more exciting than I'd planned."

"No problem, Jethro."

"So, I was wondering if you would be willing to come down here and help us find the rest of these things before someone else gets hurt?"

"Sure."

"Tell DiNozzo to get you anything you need and to bring you down here as soon as possible." A click and silence.

Gil turned to DiNozzo. "He says take me to the crime scene, but before we do that, we need to find a black light. That's the easiest way to find them."

"A black light?" DiNozzo turned his attention to Abby. "How about it, Abs? Got a black light around here?"

"Of course I do." Abby went to a cabinet off to the side and pulled out a portable black light.

"Perfect, Abby," said Gil, taking it, before turning to DiNozzo. "Where's your car?"

As they walked to the truck, Gil was quietly amused at Agent DiNozzo's heroic story of catching the scorpion. He knew from experience that unless you grabbed one of the scorpions or handled them roughly, they weren't terribly aggressive. Certainly not worthy of all the dramatics that the man was giving them.

"And then I managed to chase him into the jar, and before he could jump out and sting anyone else, I managed to slam the lid down, trapping him inside."

"Mm, hmm," murmured Gil. "So, how did the other agent get stung?"

DiNozzo went quiet for a moment. "Why? What did she tell you?"

"She didn't tell me anything. But she must have aggravated it somehow, or it wouldn't have stung her."

"Well, I might have, maybe, perhaps, startled her into putting her hand down on the thing."

Gil had to hide his laugh with a cough.

***

McGee had returned from interviewing the C.O. after DiNozzo and David had left to go back to the office. The M.P. dropped him off, and Gibbs watched him look around for the truck before he came up on the porch. "Hey, boss? Where's the truck?"

"DiNozzo and David took it. DiNozzo is on his way back with it now. What did the C.O. have to say?"

McGee pulled out his PDA. "The Staff Sergeant was a terrific employee. He's received highest marks on all his performance reviews and was on the fast track to getting promoted to Gunnery Sergeant. He's served two tours in Iraq and a tour in Afghanistan."

"What about his wife?"

"She came up in the discussion about the Staff Sergeant's enemies. They were always fighting, and according to his office mate, he was talking about filing for divorce."

"Uh, _huh_." And the team wondered – though never where they knew Gibbs could hear them – why he was reluctant to get married again. "Do we have any idea where she might be?"

"No, boss. We should probably look through her stuff - see if she appears to have taken anything."

"You think?" But Gibbs didn't move.

"Um, boss? Aren't we going to go search her stuff?"

"Not quite yet. The Staff Sergeant had a little bug problem that needs to be cleared up first." Gibbs had to grin at the way that McGee took a step off the porch, as if the bugs were going to come get him. "Why don't you call Officer David, give her the wife's name and details so she can start running her down from that side."

"Will do, boss." McGee took out his phone and started to call David, just as the truck turned onto the street. As soon as it had come to a complete stop, Gil swung himself out, holding what looked like a light.

"What's that?" asked Gibbs, motioning with his chin.

"Black light. Scorpions glow under them, so that we don't have to reach blindly into hidden corners and such."

"Ah." He opened the door and stepped back so that Gil could step inside. He wasn't surprised when Gil pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket before he went in - there was no doubt in his mind that Gil was as competent as he was.

Following Gil's instructions, he closed the blinds, and plugged in the light. Nothing immediately jumped out, but Gil started shining the light in a pattern that would cover the whole room in a few minutes.

There was nothing in the living room, nothing in the kitchen, and nothing in the bathroom. But when Gil shone it under the bed, he hit pay dirt - multiple little bodies that lit.

"Holy shit - how many are down there?" asked Gibbs.

"At least ten," said Gil. "Get me a jar from the truck?"

"Sure." Gibbs backed away. He had bad memories of scorpions from the Middle East. "DiNozzo - get me a large specimen jar. Actually, make that three or four."

DiNozzo returned in a couple of minutes with several large jars. He also was carrying today's newspaper. "Doctor Grissom? Would this be helpful in catching them?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, very helpful." Gil took the jar and the newspaper. Sliding back under the bed, Gibbs heard him moving around, and then multiple _clinks_ of something hitting the glass. When Gil stood up, he held a very full jar of scorpions. They scuttled around, waving their pincers.

Over the next half hour, Gil found at least a dozen more. They were hiding in shoes in the closet, in the bedclothes, and under the dresser. Finally, Gil said, "I think we've caught them all." There were four jars lined up on the dresser, each with several scorpions in it.

"So, what do we _do_ with them?" asked McGee.

"Well, assuming that you don't need them as evidence, you can always ship them to a friend of mine who lives in Arizona. He'd make sure that they got home."

"You can actually _ship_ these things?" Gibbs had to suppress a shudder.

"Oh, yes - FedEx will ship almost anything if you know the right place to call. Let me get these out of here."

Gil grabbed two jars, and Gibbs took the other two. He glanced at DiNozzo and McGee.

"You two get searching. See if you can find any evidence that the wife is coming home."

"We're going to need them as evidence," he said as he led the way to the truck.

"I figured as much," said Gil. "I can help Ducky euthanize them in the lab, then."

Opening the back of the truck, he pulled out one of the large tubs they used to crate up evidence. "Let's put the jars in there. That way if they manage to get out, they won't be loose in the truck."

Gil grinned but he put his two jars into the tub, then took the two from Gibbs and put them in as well. He placed the lid on the tub and sealed it. Gibbs unclenched his jaw.

"We still on for tonight?" Gil asked. "I'd understand if you don't want to - you hardly expected to spend the day at a crime scene with me."

"Hell, yes." Gibbs lowered his voice. "You still owe me that blowjob."

Gil laughed.

Gibbs cracked a grin. "All right - let's go see how they're doing in there."

"Are you sure you want me on your crime scene?"

"Yes. Worst case scenario, you get called back to testify - and I have to admit that I wouldn't mind that happening." Gibbs really wouldn't, even if he and Gil never had sex again. He suspected that the more time they spent together; the more likely that he'd find even more things they'd have in common. "Come on - standing around isn't going to catch a murderer."

"She's definitely not coming back, boss," said DiNozzo as soon as he entered the bedroom. "All of her underwear and make up is gone, plus there's a bunch of empty hangers in the closet. She apparently took her laptop, and a bunch of picture albums appear to be missing."

Gibbs' phone rang.

"What have you got for me, Abby?"

"Some interesting email. Staff Sergeant William's wife, Linda, apparently took a trip to Arizona last week - which explains where the scorpions came from. There's an itinerary here. Plus there are some encrypted files on his desktop that I'm trying to hack into now."

"We'll be back in a little while and then you can take McGee to help you." He hung up the phone, and then dialed Officer David. "How's the hand?"

"Painful, but I'll survive."

"Have you got any leads on where we might find the wife yet?"

"I've got a BOLO out on her car. She hasn't used her credit cards, but her parents live in Fairfax. Fair bet that they have a clue where she might be."

"I'll take that bet," said Gibbs. "We'll head there next." Hanging up again, he turned his attention to Gil, DiNozzo, and McGee.

"We're going to try her parents' house. With luck, she's either there or they know where she is." Zeroing in on Gil, he added, "You'll stay in the truck."

Gil nodded. "Fair enough."

The drive didn't take long, especially with Gibbs driving. He was amused to see that Gil stayed calm through the whole ride, which was more than his team could do. They pulled up in front of the house on Daniels Run Court, and the three of them got out of the car, leaving Gil sitting and watching.

DiNozzo headed around back as McGee and Gibbs went up on the porch. Gibbs rang the doorbell and waited. He could hear the sounds of people walking inside, but before he could ring again, a neatly kept middle-aged lady had answered the door. "Yes?"

"Mrs. Monroe? Is Linda here?"

She flinched. "Who's asking?"

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs and this is Special Agent McGee, NCIS. We're here about her husband."

She sighed, but held the door open wide, looking resigned "She's in the kitchen." As they stepped into the house, Mrs. Monroe called out, "Linda, some men are here for you from NCIS."

They could hear the sounds of a sliding door opening, and both McGee and Gibbs started to run. They turned the corner into the kitchen just in time to see DiNozzo holding a gun on the woman in the backyard. "That must be Linda."

"It is," said her mother. "I was just trying to talk her into turning herself in. You can guess how much success I was having at that."

"Yeah," said Gibbs.

After telling DiNozzo to read her her Article thirty-ones and cuff her, Gibbs called for a transport car and then went out to tell Gil that they'd managed to get her.

"Just in time, too," said Gil with a smile.

That made Gibbs check his watch. It was already five-thirty. "I'll be late, I'm afraid. Paperwork first and all that crap, but I think I can leave interrogating her for DiNozzo."

Gil's smile grew warmer. "I can wait."

The transport car arrived and took Linda Williams to the NCIS headquarters. Gibbs, DiNozzo, McGee, and Gil followed behind in the truck. When they got back to the office, McGee and Gil went to the lab to help Abby decrypt the computer.

DiNozzo turned to Gibbs. "I assume you're going to interrogate her later tonight?"

"Nope - you're going to do it. I've got plans tonight."

DiNozzo's jaw dropped and he looked completely shocked. Gibbs wasn't sure whether it was because Gibbs was letting him do the interrogation, or because Gibbs had said that he had plans. It didn't matter, anyway. He settled in at his desk and pulled up the arrest paperwork on his computer.

Long practice meant that it didn't take long at all to complete, and before long he'd bought Abby a Caf-pow and headed down to the lab. "Anything?"

She was staring at numbers on the screen and typing furiously. "Not yet, Gibbs. The encryption is really, really good on the computer, so I won't have anything till morning, probably."

"That's fine, Abby. You keep McGee. Don't bother to call me tonight."

She bounced up from her seat. "Wow, Gibbs - you're actually going out with Gil and not staying demanding that we work harder, faster, longer?" She shook her head. "Something is wrong here."

"Who says I'm not telling you to work your asses off? Doesn't mean _I_ can't get dinner." With that, he caught Gil's eye and tipped his head towards the door.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Abby called to their retreating backs.

The two of them stopped by Gibbs' desk so that he could check on DiNozzo. He'd already finished the interrogation, which really didn't surprise Gibbs. He'd suspected that Williams was going to fold quickly, or he would never have assigned someone else to do the questioning.

"Well?"

DiNozzo grinned widely. "She admitted to everything. She's not sorry, by the way. She seems almost proud of herself. She's currently blaming the scorpions for leaving marks – she hadn't expected that, apparently."

Opening his desk drawer, Gibbs grabbed his gun. Since Gil knew that he was an LEO, there was no reason not to obey policy and carry it with him. "All right. Don't interrupt me for anything other than an emergency," he said. "I expect everyone's reports on my desk when I get in tomorrow."

"Yes, boss," said DiNozzo.

***

Jethro drove to the hotel and grabbed a gym bag out of the backseat. Gil approved wholeheartedly. By mutual agreement, they went to the hotel restaurant

They stopped by the hotel restaurant, which was fine - delivering both burgers in a reasonable amount of time. They chatted about the case as they ate, trying to guess what was the content of those encrypted files. Their theories got progressively more outrageous as they talked, and they ended up laughing.

Jethro finished before Gil, but that was fine. Gil wasn't really all that hungry for food. He pushed his plate away and signaled the waiter for the check. Signing for the bill over Jethro's objections, he pulled out his room key. "Shall we?"

Gil led the way to the elevators. They stood quietly side-by-side on the way up, no untoward touching as they walked down the hall. Gil opened the door, and Jethro was right behind him, shutting it quietly.

Then, Jethro grabbed Gil by the shoulders and swung him around so that his back hit the wall. Gil, but didn't really care - all he wanted was Jethro's mouth on his. Opening his mouth with a groan, he let Jethro's tongue in, sucking on it lightly.

When Jethro finally broke the kiss, Gil turned his head so that he could kiss Jethro's neck.

"I've wanted to do that all day," said Jethro, hands still tight on Gil's shoulders. He pushed Gil back, taking his turn at nipping at Gil's neck.

"You and me both," said Gil, panting.

"My people would never believe this was me," Jethro continued, even as he shifted his stance so that he could grind his cock into Gil's hip. Gil groaned, his own hips flexing.

Gil brought his hands up to Jethro's chest, pushing Jethro back. "Naked, Jethro. I've wanted to get my mouth on your dick for two days."

Jethro obeyed, practically tearing his clothes to get them off faster. Gil wanted to watch, to touch, but he needed to get out of his own clothes first, before his cock strangled in his slacks. Kicking off his shoes, he unfastened his pants with clumsy fingers. He breathed a sigh of relief as he slid pants and briefs down over his hips.

Unbuttoning his shirt, he tugged it off, only then looking up to see Jethro sprawled on the bed. Cock hard. Jethro was lounging back on his elbows, watching Gil.

Throwing his shirt aside, he crawled up on the bed, right up over Jethro till he was straddling him on all fours. Their cocks brushed together, making both of them gasp. Gil dipped his head so that he could kiss Jethro hard and deep.

When he pulled back, Jethro lifted his head off the bed, clearly trying to get more kisses, but Gil had other plans. Slowly, he kissed his way down Jethro's body. He nibbled on his collarbone, before sucking a nipple into his mouth.

Jethro gasped and thrashed below Gil. "Oh, fuck," he growled out.

"Is it my turn to tell you to hold on, Jethro?" Gil asked.

With another growl, Jethro thumped his head back on to the bed. One of his hands came up, fingers tangling in Gil's hair. Gil returned his attention to Jethro's nipple, sucking and biting at it until Jethro sounded desperate.

Only then did he start to kiss his way lower, dropping light kisses on his stomach, tracing his belly button with his tongue. Jethro's cock bobbed, trying to get his attention.

Gil skipped over the rock hard cock, moving down between Jethro's spread thighs to lick and suck at his balls.

"Christ!" Jethro said above him. "Oh, God, Gil. Suck my dick. Please, don't make me beg, just suck it."

Releasing the ball that he had in his mouth, Gil laughed softly. "You're already begging." But he didn't feel like pushing it. Instead, he shifted up and took the head of his cock into his mouth, sucking gently.

"Yes," hissed Jethro, trembling as if he wanted to thrust up. Gil wrapped his hand around the lower half of his shaft, pumping it slightly as he sucked. He knew that he was going too lightly, too gently to get Jethro off, but that was okay. Teasing was fun too.

Holding two fingers of his other hand to Jethro's mouth, he glanced up, meeting Jethro's eyes. Jethro didn't look away as he licked and sucked Gil's fingers, getting them good and wet. When Gil pulled them away, Jethro spread his legs even wider, tipping his hips in an unmistakable invitation.

Gil started with just one finger, and it was a good thing, since Jethro was _tight_. Since there was no doubt in Gil's mind that it had been a long time for Jethro, he wasn't really surprised. Thrusting slowly, he felt around until he felt the slightly rounded spot that indicated his prostate. When he pressed against it, Jethro yelped, his hips coming up off the bed for the first time.

Gil slowly slid the other wet finger inside Jethro's hot entrance. He fingered Jethro steadily even as he started to suck harder, determined to make Jethro come and come hard.

From the way that Jethro's cock was leaking, it wasn't going to take long. Gil licked it away before continuing to suck, bobbing his head up and down slowly. Jethro was making all sorts of good noises, and then he was saying, "I'm gonna, Gil, I'm gonna..."

That was all the warning that Gil received. Bitterness coated his tongue, but the pleasure he got in reducing Jethro to this was enormous. Slowly and carefully he slid his fingers out of Jethro's ass and knelt up. His own arousal was roaring forward now, and with a loud groan he grabbed his cock.

Only took a few strokes brought him to the edge, and then he was coming. Ropy strands of come decorated Jethro's stomach and chest, and Gil collapsed forward, catching himself on one hand so that he didn't actually fall on him.

He waited till he caught his breath. Jethro was smiling at him, eyes crinkling in amusement, and Gil smiled back before he forced himself to stand, going to the bathroom and grabbing a washcloth to clean up Jethro.

Once that task was finished, he tossed the cloth back towards the bedroom before crawling back into bed. They curled around each other, breathing slow and even. "That was good," said Gil.

"No, I'd say _very_ good," said Jethro, and they both cracked up.

When they finally calmed again, Gil let his eyes flutter shut as he listened to Jethro breathing. He was very glad that he'd agreed to give a lecture to NCIS.

***

Gibbs woke to the strident sound of the alarm. With a groan, he reached over and slapped it. Then he opened his eyes, only to be looking right into Gil's blue ones.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hi, yourself."

"What time is your lecture today?"

"Eleven AM, but I have several meetings with members of the NCIS staff, starting at nine."

"I guess I can be a little late going in, so that I can give you a ride in. It'll save you the cost of a taxi, which means that much less for the government to reimburse."

Gil chuckled. "Yep - all in the name of saving the government money."

"Uh, huh." Gibbs glanced at the time. It was only six o'clock. Plenty of time.

"So, we could go back to sleep, get breakfast, or find something else to do."

"Oh, hmmm." Gil's smile turned wicked. "Why don't you turn over?"

What was Gil planning? Gibbs rolled onto his back, and then when Gil motioned for him to keep going, on to his other side, his back to Gil. There was a pause, and then Gil shifted so that he was plastered against Gibbs' back, his cock nestled up between Gibbs' cheeks.

Gibbs tensed. Jesus. It had been at least a decade since he'd let another man fuck him. But everything that they'd done together had been really good, so there was no reason not to do this too. Forcing himself to relax, he was rewarded with a kiss to the back of his neck.

Gil wrapped his arms around Gibbs. One of them drifted to a nipple, pinching it lightly and bringing it to a hard point. The other landed further south, cupping his balls and stroking over them with a thumb. Slowly, Gibbs' cock hardened and lengthened, and as it did, he moaned, pressing back into Gil's cock, which was already hard.

"I want - " he panted roughly.

"Yeah?" asked Gil, equally rough. "You want me to fuck you, Jethro?" The word fuck was punctuated by a hard thrust of Gil's hips.

"Uh, huh." And he did. Gil handled him like a master, touching all the spots that would turn Gibbs on, make him even hornier. Weird. Gibbs hadn't been this horny in months. He'd think about it later. Right now he just wanted more and harder.

Gil's warmth disappeared, but before Gibbs could complain, he was back. There was the _click_ of the lube being opened, and then a slick finger at his hole. "

Relax," said Gil.

Gibbs nodded and took a deep breath. As he let it out slowly, the finger slipped inside. It felt good as he was slowly penetrated, but he wanted more.

"I can take more," he grated out.

"I know you can, but I like going slow," said Gil, still slowly fucking him with one finger.

It was shallow, not much past the ring of muscle, and nowhere near his prostate. He thought he was going to go mad with the tentative touch. Then Gil simultaneously pinched one nipple hard and pushed in all the way and right to his prostate.

Gibbs groaned, muffling it in the pillow.

Gil whispered, "I like hearing you. Don't hold back."

Before he could say anything, Gil slid his finger out and came back with two, gently twisting and scissoring them. Every third or fourth glide in, he pressed on Gibbs' prostate, making him cry out and squirm. When Gil pulled his fingers out again, Gibbs begged.

"Oh, God, Gil. Don't stop. Please don't stop."

He was startled out of it by being handed a condom.

"Open that. My fingers are slick."

He hurriedly obeyed, and then turned over so that he could put the condom on Gil. As he rolled it down Gil's dick, Gil panted harshly. "Don't tease, or this will be over far too fast."

Since that was the last thing he wanted, he hurried, rolling the condom down Gil's length quickly. Funny. His cock hadn't looked that big when Gibbs had sucked him off.

He was urged back over on his side, and Gil pushed on his top leg until he got the hint, pulling it up practically to his chest, opening himself up for Gil. He took a deep breath as Gil's cock nudged into place, and let it out slowly as he started to press inside.

Gibbs didn't think he was going to be able to take it at first. It felt huge as the head slid through his entrance, stretching the muscle wide. Biting his tongue to keep from saying, "Stop," he reminded himself that it would get better.

Gil worked himself deeper in a series of short thrusts. He only stopped when he was in fully, his balls up against Gibbs' own.

"Okay?" he asked, voice tight.

Taking another deep breath before he answered, Gibbs said, "I'm fine. Go ahead."

Gil snorted, and then held still for a moment longer before his hips flexed, rocking more than thrusting. It _burned_. The pleasure hovered just _there_, if he could only relax and accept it.

As Gil rocked, he shifted once, then again. Finally, the head of his cock brushed up against Gibbs' prostate, making him groan.

This position wasn't good for deep thrusts, but the slow rocking that Gil was doing? _Perfect_. With each press of his cock, the pleasure spiked a little higher, until finally that was all Gibbs could feel. With a groan, he started to move in counterpoint to Gil.

That got a moan from Gil as he managed to take Gil even deeper. "Oh, god," Gil whispered.

Gibbs smiled. Gil was as shaken up as he. They moved together slowly, almost dreamily, both lost in the pleasure washing through their bodies.

When it got intense, it got there _fast_. Gibbs found himself pushing back as hard as he could, meeting Gil's equally strong thrusts, and it still wasn't enough. Neither of them could get enough leverage to fuck as hard as their bodies were demanding.

Suddenly Gil's hand was on his thigh, urging his leg down, even though that meant that he could only shove in shallowly. That was all the warning that Gibbs got before Gil rolled them both, so that Gibbs was lying on his stomach. He spread his legs, letting Gil drop between them. His hands knotted in the sheets as Gil gave a deep, hard thrust.

Groaning with every hard push of Gil's hips, he got closer and closer. If he could just get his hand down to touch himself, he'd come, but he couldn't. His whole body was being rocked with powerful thrusts.

Then Gil bit down on the junction of Gibbs' neck and shoulder, thrusting in even harder and whining high in his throat as he came. He didn't even wait for the aftershocks to clear before he pulled out gently and urged Gibbs over onto his back so that he could suck Gibbs' cock down his throat, sliding in two fingers and fucking him hard and fast.

"Fuck," Gibbs growled out, letting his orgasm wash over him like a tidal wave. Gil nursed him through the aftershocks and then pulled off with an obscene _pop_ that made Gibbs smile, even though he was pretty much a puddle.

Gil pulled his fingers out slowly, making Gibbs jump and shudder. Gibbs reached down, grabbing Gil under one arm and pulled him up to kiss him.

"Okay?" Gil asked.

"Very," said Gibbs. He glanced over at the clock and realized that it was almost seven. "But we need to get up and shower if I'm going to have you at NCIS on time."

Gil nodded, his expression serious. "I rather think I'm the one who just had you," he said, sliding away and out of the bed before Gibbs could swat him. He broke into a grin, which Gibbs returned. Gil clapped his hands together and said, "Okay, shower." When Gibbs nodded, he turned and went into the bathroom.

Gibbs dug out his cell phone and called DiNozzo.

"DiNozzo. I'm gonna be about an hour late this morning. You have your report on your interview with Mrs. Williams ready for me?"

"Everything okay, boss?"

Why hadn't he called DiNozzo after he had his first cup of coffee? "Yeah, everything is fine."

The bathroom door opened then and Gil stuck his head out. "Jethro, could you -" Gil's mouth snapped shut before he ducked back into the bathroom.

Shit.

"Boss, who was that?"

"No one." His tone was flat, in the hopes that it would discourage DiNozzo from continuing to ask.

"It sounded like Doctor Grissom."

Crap. "Yeah? So?"

"He stay at your place last night?"

He should lie. He should come up with something to throw DiNozzo off the track, because he was a determined SOB when he wanted to be.

"No. I'm in his hotel room." He could have slapped _himself_ in the back of the head for it. DiNozzo was never going to let it go now.

There was dead silence at the other end of the line. Then DiNozzo swallowed audibly and said, "Um, okay. So we'll see you later?"

Gibbs closed his phone. The damage was done.

Time to switch with Gil in the shower.

By the time that Gibbs got out of the shower, Gil was fully dressed, his suitcase packed and standing next to the wall with a well-used backpack. Gibbs hurriedly dressed in the clothes he'd packed in his gym bag, and then they left, Gil checking out of the hotel.

The two of them bought coffee from the corner store, and then drove in to NCIS. They pulled into the lot at eight-twenty

 

"Leave your suitcase in the car. I'll drive you to Dulles if a case doesn't break."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate it."

"So, what time do you have to be at the airport?"

"By six-thirty or so. My flight leaves at eight-thirty." Gil smiled back.

For the first time in a long time, Gibbs was hoping for a quiet day. They arrived at the visitor station, where Gil was going to have to clear security. Hesitating a few feet away from the desk. "Ask your last appointment to bring you to me about five and we'll go."

"Sounds good to me."

Leaving Gil there, he veered to go to the bullpen. Everyone was there, and looking curious about his tardiness, but as expected, only DiNozzo had the balls to say anything about it.

"Great to see you, boss. Have a good morning?"

Gibbs didn't say anything. He held out his hand for DiNozzo's report. He had one question left after the interrogation the night before.

"Why'd she use scorpions?" That's what had Gibbs puzzled.

"She figured the police wouldn't recognize what the scorpion stings were and would chalk it up to natural causes. She's not very bright, boss."

"Well, in a way she was right. If Gil hadn't seen the body, we'd be very puzzled, or we all would have been stung. Speaking of – Officer David!"

David jumped to her feet and hurried over to Gibbs' desk. "Yes, Gibbs?"

"How's the hand?"

"It's fine. I've been stung before, though the ones in Israel are much bigger."

"Oh, give me a break," said DiNozzo heatedly. "Of course -"

Gibbs stepped in the middle before it could turn into an argument. Some days it was funny, but he didn't feel like dealing today. "DiNozzo! Leave it!"

DiNozzo grumbled under his breath, but when Gibbs glared at him, he said, "Yes, boss."

"Good job, all of you." He swallowed his laughter to himself when everyone turned to stare at him. He was allowed to praise his people occasionally - he just didn't want them getting expecting it.

With that, he turned his attention to his computer, needing to complete his own reports. Slowly, his people drifted back to their desks, DiNozzo going last. A few minutes later, and email popped up. From DiNozzo, of course.

He opened it, and then had to stare hard at the contents.

_Hey boss_, it said. _ You might want to button up your shirt a little more - you've got a bruise on your neck_.

His first impulse was to button up. His second was to go to the bathroom and look. In the end he did nothing, though he did glance over at DiNozzo, who was staring at his computer screen. How had he missed it when he'd shaved that morning?

But, dammit, he wasn't ashamed of sleeping with someone, and if it had been a woman who left a mark like that, he wouldn't hide it. He'd be damned if he would just because it had been a guy.

At eleven, he stood. "I'm going to see Doctor Grissom's seminar. I'll be back in about an hour." He wasn't really surprised when DiNozzo stood as well.

"I'll join you," he said. "It could be fascinating."

What could Gibbs say to that? He couldn't exactly tell DiNozzo to stay behind - the seminar was open to everyone at NCIS. So he just nodded and headed to the conference room.

Gil's lecture was good. Gil had twenty years worth of crime scene experience, and he didn't hesitate to use some of his old cases as examples. Gibbs' stomach twisted as Gil described the abduction of a CSI agent. He knew how Gil felt – after all, hadn't he felt the same way when DiNozzo had almost died and when Todd had been killed?

He returned to his desk, and lost himself in paperwork, hoping that the phone wouldn't ring. For once, he got lucky, and he spent the day catching up.

When he finally looked up again, Gil and Ducky were standing by the desk. "Five o'clock already?" he asked

"Yes, my boy. It's been a fascinating visit with Gil, but we really do need to return him to his team. I understand that you're taking him to the airport?"

"I am." Gibbs stood up, grabbing his keys and his gun. Addressing his team, he said, "I'll see you all in the morning." He tried to ignore the look of curiosity on DiNozzo's face and instead started out of the bullpen, Gil following. As they got in the elevator, he turned around just in time to see DiNozzo's face fall.

"Is everything okay, Jethro?" Gil asked as the elevator moved down.

"Yeah, fine." He really wasn't though - he knew that eventually he'd have to talk to DiNozzo about this, and wasn't that going to be fun. Gil looked at him, but didn't say anything further.

The silence held till they got to Gibbs' car.

"Regrets?" asked Gil as they closed doors and put on seatbelts.

Gibbs turned to look at him. "What? No! Just not looking forward to having DiNozzo questioning what I do in my private life."

"Ah," Gil said, and when nothing more was forthcoming, he turned on the car. They pulled out of the lot, and Gibbs started towards I-395 to take Gil to Dulles. Traffic was its usual rush-hour mess, and Gibbs settled into his seat.

"You know, Jethro, from what I saw, DiNozzo's a good investigator." When Gibbs looked over at Gil, he was looking out of the window.

"He is. And I don't blame him for being curious."

"Hm. I'd say curious and then raise you to jealous."

"Gambling metaphors, Gil?"

"What can I say? You can take the man out of Vegas..."

Gibbs chuckled. Was DiNozzo jealous of Gil? That would explain a lot.

"Maybe. It's possible."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know."

"Because he's your subordinate?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs said, "No, not really. I just - Do we have to talk about this?"

Gil flashed him a quick smile. "No. If you ever change your mind about talking about it, though, just give me a call."

"Sure." They drove in silence for a while longer. "You get out to D.C. often?"

"Every couple of years. You ever get out to Vegas?"

"I've never been there."

"You should visit. It's a wild town."

This time Gibbs gave a full on laugh. "I'm sure - I heard your stories in there."

Grinning, Gil sank back. "Seriously, you ever get out to Vegas and I'll give you the full tour - anything you want to see."

Gibbs grinned. "What if I want to see where you live?"

"I think that can be arranged," said Gil. "Give me a call sometime."

"May be a while," said Gibbs cautiously, trying to say, "This is just casual, right?" without using the words.

"I'm not going anywhere, and besides, I'll be back in D.C. eventually." Message was apparently received. Gibbs relaxed.

When they got to the airport, Gibbs popped the trunk and then got out, meeting Gil at the back of the car. "It was an interesting visit, that was for sure," Gil said.

"I bet. I look forward to hearing from you again."

"Me, too, Jethro." Gil lifted out his bag. "Take it easy."

Gil walked away. Gibbs lounged against his car, watching him walk away. What would it be like having a friend who wasn't in the FBI or on his team?

Just as Gil reached the doors, he turned and waved at Gibbs. Gibbs waved back.

It had been a good couple of days.

**Epilogue**

Gil turned on his phone as soon as he landed, even though he wasn't expected back at work until Wednesday night. He had one day to get back onto a nightshift schedule, but at least he could do it in Vegas.

The phone buzzed. He had a text message and a voicemail. When he checked the text, he found it was from Greg.

_Waiting for you in the cell phone waiting area - call when you land_.   
Smiling, he checked the voicemail just long enough to make sure that it was from Greg as well.

He didn't need to go to baggage claim, so he called Greg on his way out of the door. The cool, dry air rose up to meet him, and he took a deep breath.

Greg's car pulled up moments later. "Hey, Grissom!" he shouted happily, waving from the driver's seat.

The trunk popped open, and Gil loaded his suitcase, before climbing in the passenger seat. "Hi, Greg. Didn't expect to see you here."

Greg flashed him a quick grin before he pulled out into traffic. "Ah, well, I know what a bitch it is to get back on nightshift. Figured I'd take you out to a diner, load you up on coffee, and talk to you till the wee hours."

"Isn't that a waste of a perfectly good night off?" Gil asked.

Coughing and clearing his throat, Greg glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Even in the dim light from the streetlights, Gil could see the bright blush on his cheeks. "Imighthavemissedyou."

What did he say? The words suddenly made sense and he shot a sharp look at Greg. He couldn't mean it the way it sounded.

"I missed you too, Greg. Missed the whole team."

Greg's face fell. Curious. Ah, well.

Still, it was a generous offer. He didn't have to waste his free time with Gil. "Sounds good to me, Greg."

"Awesome."

He'd figure it out eventually. He always did.


End file.
